Strings Attached

"Tied to apron strings" is thrown as an insult to exploited, homebound females only able to cook, sew and clean whoa! 'Scuse me, but I pay dearly for people to do that for me! Our great-grandmothers could make their own soap in a backyard kettle that got the skidmarks out of grandpas long johns. Creepy or creative genius? You be the judge. I know I loved hearing my grandma share culinary anecdotes while she crafted pot roast and scalloped potatoes, wiping her hands frequently on her apron. June Cleaver might be the last woman seen functioning in an apron on television, but aprons were the "virus scan" of our grandmas' generation--making sure they stayed fresh during their daily paces. The Women's Museum in Fair Park hosts the Apron Chronicles: A Patchwork of American Recollections46 testaments to Americana, immigration and women's devotion to family collected by EllynAnne Geisel, accompanied by award-winning Kristina Loggia's photographs. You'll read about a chef with Hong Kong roots, an African-American mom who died in an apron, a cowboy's memories of grandma, an Austrian homemaker and a man who loves his "apron strings" to a great mom. Two hundred colorful, vintage aprons hang from a clothesline throughout the exhibit that's toured the country since 2004. Call 214-915-0860 or visit thewomensmuseum.org.